Just Like Pappy
by madelinesticks
Summary: Steam Powered Giraffe fic. The Spine notes odd behaviour in his fellow automaton. (not a particularly happy fic, as per usual)


The Spine watched Rabbit as he walked back and forth in the library. Three was playing downstairs with a six-year-old Mark and a four-year-old Wanda. Though Mark was, in fairness, a fairly serious child, he liked to see Wanda laugh.  
Three was best with children. He was happy and he laughed easily - he wanted only to make other people laugh with him.  
If The Spine was honest, he was most comfortable with adults. He could entertain children, make them smile, but he always worried about them fearing him. He was of an intimidating height compared to adults, let alone younger people.  
Rabbit didn't have that problem. Kids were never scared of him for long, even though he didn't try to be human. Somehow, Rabbit charmed everyone anyway, with glitches and innocently made innuendos.  
He was charming no one now. He was walking back and forth in as straight a line as he could manage, a scowl of concentration fixed on his face.  
"Rabbit, what're you doing?" The Spine asked, watching him over his book with raised eyebrows.  
"I'm walking, Spine." The Spine blinked, staring at his brother. Nearly from the beginning, Rabbit had spoken in a comfortable drawl, taking "g"s from words and moving fluidly from word to word. Here, he'd enunciated, speaking clearly and seriously.  
The Spine swung his long legs off the footrest, leaning forwards in his seat and setting the book aside. He felt a twinge of pain run up his spine - a stray Blue Matter spark from circuitry that couldn't be fully fixed - but he ignored it.  
"Rabbit, are you okay?"  
"I'm fine, Spine." The Spine tilted his head just slightly to the side, wondering if his brother was suffering from some strange new malfunction. Rabbit left the room, still walking strangely, but with new confidence.  
It was not Rabbit's familiar, hip-swaying, slightly slow gait. It was not Three's rapid toddle, and nor was it The Spine's almost human stride, or Hatchworth's heavy-footed amble.  
It was human. It seemed natural - and that wasn't surprising, if Rabbit had been practising.  
Why? Rabbit never had any desire to be human, to be anything other than a happy automaton.  
The Spine frowned to himself, following Rabbit. Peter I was sat at the kitchen table, frowning at a set of schematics. The Spine could hear Wanda laugh and giggle, could hear Mark give an occasional yelp of laughter. Three was in tickle mode, then.  
Rabbit settled at the kitchen table, peering over Peter's shoulder with plain curiosity. Yet, even still, he sat up straight, held his hands flat as opposed to the comfortable curl of fingers he usually favoured.  
The Spine looked from Rabbit to the Colonel and made the connection. He left the room, frowning to himself. He did not mention Rabbit's change. He noticed Three watching Rabbit quizically, but the brass 'bot didn't say anything either. The humans of the house didn't notice, barring young Wanda. The Walters, as a whole, had a tendency to become absorbed in projects and forget all else.  
"Rabbit?" The Spine asked.  
"Yeah, The Spine?" Rabbit looked up from his accordion.  
"Why're ya trying to be the Colonel?" Rabbit's jaw shifted, lips a solid line.  
"I don't know what you mean." The Spine gave a huff.  
"That's a lie, and you know it! You're walkin' like him and talkin' like him. D'ya wanna be human all of a sudden?" The Spine felt a small spark of fear at the idea. He didn't want to see Rabbit heartbroken over being unable to achieve humanity.  
"No." Rabbit was scowling. "It's- a son should be like his Pa." The Spine stared at his (technically) older brother, sudden understanding showing on his features.  
"Aw, buddy." He whispered, feeling sympathy amd worry and sadness all at once. Rabbit leaned back in his armchair, drawing his legs up onto the chair so that he could hide behind his knees, so that he couldn't see The Spine's pitying gaze.  
"Rabbit." The Spine and Rabbit both jolted, not having seen their creator in the doorway. Rabbit looked down, seeming embarrassed and almost scared. "Rabbit, come here." Peter was firm in tone.  
The Spine could see a quiver to Rabbit's right hand as he stepped forwards, standing to attention in front of the engineer with those trembling fingers behind his back.  
Peter threw himself forwards, wrapping his arms around Rabbit in a tight hug. He wasn't usually one for physical displays of affection, but now he hugged the automaton to him with closed eyes and an unhappy expression.  
"I want you to be yourself." He whispered, shifting back and stroking a thumb over Rabbit's chin, looking nearly ready to cry. The Spine was somewhat alarmed, but stayed in place. "Can you do that? Don't be like me. Please, Rabbit."  
"Y-yessir." Rabbit mumbled. His hands shook even more. "M'sorry, sir."  
"Don't be sorry." Pappy murmured, a slight frown on his face. "I understand. Just- I'm not the sort of person I want you boys to be like. Not ever."  
Rabbit nodded obediently. Peter pressed a quick kiss to the other's cheek. "I'll see you at dinner." He strode quickly from the room, clenching and unclenching his fists.  
The Spine watched Rabbit uncertainly stay where he was, fingers glitching awfully. "Rabbit, I-"  
Rabbit stormed out of the room, back to his usually walk, at least.  
The Spine sighed.

Rabbit, these days, slipped into it without realising. Hatchworth got a little confused when he did, when Rabbit's easy drawl and cheek snapped to serious enunciation, and when he started to walk as he did.  
He did it when he slipped into bouts of unhappiness, when he started thinking about his creator and started to miss him. The Spine never pointed it out.  
Rabbit was enough like Pappy without trying, in his opinion. Stubborn and he snapped and he laughed at weird things. But, all the same, the mimickry offered him some comfort, even if it was minimal.  
The Spine let him be.


End file.
